


i tried to capture the spirit of the thing

by greatunironic



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Hockey, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 04:07:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9303485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greatunironic/pseuds/greatunironic
Summary: In which Ray Palmer attends his first hockey game, learns the finer points of penalties, and develops a big ole crush.





	

 

 _“Dave’s a killer!”  
_ _“Dave’s a mess.”_

     

Ray swings by Central City on a Tuesday morning. He’s been getting system error after system error during a routine check of propulsion jets on the lower legs of the ATOM suit three days running now and he can't keep looking at it or he'll end up destroying either the suit or his lab. So he shoots Cisco a text, asks if he's able to stop by for a little extra tech support sometime, and Cisco immediately sends back a six-part text message that is almost entirely made up of the 100 emoji and the word "dude" before he announces that his home is open to Ray at any time and to just let him know if he'd like to travel Air Barry.

 _lol_ , Ray had tapped out, _i'll take my helicopter!! can i park it on the roof??_

He throws in a couple smiley faces too, to continue in the common vernacular of Ciscos, and starts packing up what he needs.

When he gets there, Cisco has cleared out an entire room for Ray's personal use and is standing in the parking lot with a mug of coffee, beaming.

"Bro!" he says, handing the mug over. "Man, I am honored by your presence today! We’re looking at the propulsion packs, right? Cause I also got some ideas on re: weaponizing this bad boy so you’re not constantly relying on your light blasts as your primary offensive move, if we get finished early.” He claps and pumps his fists. “Yo, I am so excited to science with you on the suit again, man. Let's get after this shit!"

They work through lunch, ordering out pizza, and try not to get grease on anything. Caitlin sets up shop in a corner around two, presumably reading a medical journal but really making sure no one electrocutes themselves after she caught them experimenting with some live wires while on a break, a sneak peak of Cisco’s weapons testing, he'd said. Harry hovers around the doorway periodically, and seeing the doppelgänger and not-murderer out of the corner of his eye is unsettling until Harry gets over himself and rolls in with some tools and a couple ideas on how to maintain even, stronger propulsion through the jets to really get Ray’s top speed up. Barry pops his head in once too, on his way to run on the treadmill to get some energy out with no pressing issues for the Flash.

It feels -- nice, being elbowed and talked over and shouted at that they are all going to die if they don’t put those wires down this instant. Better than the lab back at Palmer Tech, if Ray's honest. It's easier to breathe, less lonely. Fun.

The suit isn't finished by dinner, which is when Caitlin demands everyone pack up for the day and go home. Ray makes a phone call and gets a hotel room in ten minutes flat before inviting everyone out to dinner. Harry declines but Cisco, Caitlin, and Barry all join Ray (and bully him into going to a "normal" place for dinner).

 _i'm running away to central city,_ he texts Felicity later as he curls up into his hotel bed.

 _The hell you are_ , she immediately types back.

He laughs and puts his phone onto the nightstand, turning on the news, volume on low, Anderson Cooper lulling him to sleep.

*

By five the next day, after another long work-through with Cisco, Harry joining up again with them after lunch, and no one even getting a little bit shocked, the suit is back in working order and Ray gets both Cisco and Harry to high-five him over it.

"We should have dinner again tonight," says Ray as they head into the Cortex to tell Caitlin. Barry's there too, feet kicked up on a console, and Iris behind him, pointing something out to both Caitlin and Barry.

"I'll have to decline again," says Harry, already backing up to the doorway. "Thank you, though."

"Of course," says Ray.

Both Cisco and Caitlin agree to come out for dinner with him but Barry tips his head back to smile up at Iris and shake his head. She smiles widely back.

“Oh, no,” says Barry. “Sorry!”

“We can’t,” says Iris.

“It’s hockey night in Central City!” they chant together.

“What,” says Ray.

“The Penguins are in town playing the Buccaneers,” says Iris. “We’ve had tickets literally since before the season started.”

“They only play one away game here since they’re Eastern Conference, and the C-Bucs are Western, you know?" Barry says. “But both teams are really high in the rankings right now so fingers crossed for the Finals between them this year!”

“Oh my God, I would die,” says Iris.

“Who knew you guys were this into hockey?” Ray looks at Cisco and Caitlin in confusion but they're both grinning and nodding.

“Do you guys wanna come with us?” asks Barry. “It’s gonna be an amazing game.”

“I thought you said you’ve had tickets all season,” says Ray, pulling his phone from his pocket and beginning to search for tickets. “Will it be a problem for us to get seats near you?”

Iris and Barry share another upside down look, even more significant than their first. She starts laughing as he reaches out to push Ray’s phone away from his face. He says, “Don’t even worry about it. You in?”

“Well,” says Ray, “I mean, I’ve never been to be a hockey game before.”

*

They take Iris's car. Ray gets the passenger seat, by virtue of being their token giant, Cisco jokes, and everyone else gets tucked into the back of Iris's little hybrid. Barry grumbles the whole way, saying he could have met them there, which Iris breezily ignores by turning her radio ever louder until Ray thinks they’re all about to go deaf. He feels a momentary pang over their relationship: Sydney would never have just turned the music up -- they probably would never have even been in the same car, to be honest.

At Atlas Arena, Iris pulls the car into a little side parking area. There's a guard in a booth that immediately approaches the car. Iris rolls down her window and smiles winningly. She turns to Ray and points at the glove box, says, "There's a couple passes in there, can you grab them for me?"

Ray pops it open. The lanyard passes are not press as Ray assumed they'd be -- they're VIP ones. He hands them over with a raised eyebrow.

"Thanks," she says and immediately hands one to the guard outside her window. She smiles at the woman. "There should be three more of those for West?"

"Could I see some ID too?" asks the guard.

Iris paws briefly in the purse by her feet and obediently hands it over when she finds it. The guard reads it, checks a list, then checks the pass against Iris's ID too before handing it back. She says, "Head on in. Space 10D. The other passes will be with security inside. Have a nice day, Miss West."

"Thank you!" she says and pulls through into the lot. Everyone scans the area for their spot, which Caitlin sees first. They pull in and the trio in the backseat don't even wait for the car to stop before stumbling out.

"Freedom!" shouts Barry. If there wouldn't be witnesses, he'd probably be speeding around in a circle right now.

"Wuss," says Iris.

"I haven't ridden in the middle seat since middle school, let me live," he says.

Iris and Barry, jostling shoulders and swinging the passes on their lanyards into each other's faces, lead the way into the arena. They’re wearing Penguins jerseys now -- SNART #92 on Barry and LETANG #58 on Iris -- which Ray genuinely does not recall them having on earlier so he knows Barry’s speed must have indeed come into play as they got out of the car, and Ray looks at Cisco and Caitlin again.

"Am I having a stroke?" he asks. He thinks he'd remember hearing about anyone in his family having one this young but who knows what’s lurking in his genetic tree? He should have a panel run when he gets home, to be safe, he thinks.

"It's just because Len hasn't been to town lately," Caitlin explains. "They revert to eleven year olds when they're about to see him."

Ray blinks. “Len?”

Iris manages to slap Barry across the face with her pass and he squawks indignantly as she ducks around him to open a door into the arena. She nods at Ray as he goes past and says, “My other, _favorite_ foster brother.”

“Hey!” says Barry, glaring. There’s a bright pink spot on his forehead where the pass had connected that makes the glare significantly less effective.

“No offense,” says Iris, nodding to Caitlin, Cisco, and Ray, “but Len always did have the hottest friends.”

“Yeah, with, like, the least amount of teeth,” mutters Barry as he makes his way to the security just inside the door they entered. He picks up three more passes after a quick conversation and turns back to distribute them, practically vibrating with excitement as he does so. He says, “Ray, dude, we are gonna have a great time, I’m so excited you guys all came with us! And Crosby just got cleared to play again for tonight too after getting benched for that upper-body whatever, so the Two-Headed Monster is gonna be on the ice again!”

“Nice,” says Iris and they high-five.

Caitlin leans into Ray’s space. “It’s best to just smile and nod when they get going.”

“This happens a lot?” he asks.

“Oh, yeah, “ she says. “I mean, when Barry was in the coma, Iris would read him play-by-plays.”

“I once watched Barry watch a replay of a pass and I swear he started crying,” says Cisco.

“I had no idea,” Ray says. 

“They hide the sports-crazy pretty well for nerds,” Cisco tells him. “It helps that the crazy tends to only be hockey, and Len, related.”

He opens his mouth to ask what Len does in the world of hockey that made them so obsessed -- maybe played as a kid and works for the Penguins team now or something? -- but they start getting hustled through security and he doesn’t manage to get the question out.

“This way,” says Barry once they’re through, gesturing with his hand to follow him through the crowds of people getting beer and pretzels at the concessions areas to a bank of elevators off to the side. “Do you guys wants anything before we go up? Joe said he’ll spring for beers when gets here, which should be soon.”

Cisco taps his chin. “Those pretzels do look pretty bomb.”

Ray yanks out his wallet, practically in relief -- this, he knows how to do. “I’ll get us all some,” he says and heads over to get in line.

Iris, Cisco, and Caitlin head up in the elevators and Barry stays behind with Ray to help carry. He says as they wait, “I really am excited you could come with us. Felicity messaged me the other day, I know things haven’t been that great in Starling lately. I’m glad you could get out, have some fun, catch some local color.”

“Thanks, Barry,” he says. “Things have been stressful. But. We’re working things out and it’s getting better, you know, day by day. Though being in the lab with you all, even Harry, which, by the way --”

“Yeah, man, I know,” says Barry, almost tiredly. “It’s wild.”

“Well,” he says. “Anyway. Being with you guys makes me want to run away from everything and just set up shop here. Feels less dark, somehow. I mean, I know you guys have your problems.”

Barry laughs. “But compared to Oliver’s problems -- yeah. I can see why Central has that shiny, brand new penny allure. Plus you’ve been hanging out with Captain Positivity himself, always has an effect on the life outlook. Well, you’re always welcome to relocate. If your VP wouldn’t murder you dead first.”

Finally at the head of the line, Ray orders probably more soft pretzels than they need and a bunch of candy for good measure. The girl behind the counter blinks and the people in line who hear Ray stare with wide eyes. Ray just shrugs at Barry and passes him one of the huge cardboard drink carriers the girl loads up with food before grabbing the second and making their way back to the elevators.

They flash their passes at the guy manning them and they are taken up to another floor --which is, in fact, a private lounge of some kind, with couches and seats near a box window and a TV with ESPN on turned low in the corner. Caitlin, Cisco, and Iris are all waiting for them, sprawled comfortably across the space.

“Wait,” says Ray. “Are these our seats?”

“Yeah,” says Iris. “I think someone on the C-Bucs lost a bet to Len over the summer or something.”

“Wow,” he says, going to the edge and looking out over the ice where both teams are beginning to spill onto the ice and circle it, hitting at the truly impressive amount of pucks that litter the ice. He turns around to look at the room again. “I mean, I’m a billionaire but wow.”

“Dude,” says Cisco, laughing. “Your eyebrows are practically about to achieve liftoff.”

“I’m a scientist CEO. I go to charity events and increasingly formal dinner affairs,” he defends, “not sporting events.”

The group laughs. Someone over the stadium loudspeakers asks that they all rise for the National Anthem. After it is over and the teams circle back to the ice to face one another, Iris pats Ray on the arm and says, “Don’t worry. We’ll educate you.”

“Yeah,” Barry says, eyes lighting up. “I practically minored in hockey.”

Detective West enters the box carrying a bucket of beers ten minutes later, which is, coincidentally, exactly how long it takes for Ray to genuinely begin regretting everything in his life that brought him to this point -- but especially whatever the hell got Barry to launch into explanation of something called off sides like it had personally broken up his last relationship. _Though_ , thinks Ray, _if I was dating Barry, I’d leave him too after that._

A beer is dropped into his lap.

“Oh, thank God,” he says, popping the lid. West raises an eyebrow even as he chuckles.

Iris explains, “It’s Ray’s first hockey game so Barry’s trying to educate him. We’ve reached off sides.”

“Really, Bear?” asks West, staring. “Isn’t that a little advanced?”

“The off sides rule is not actually as confusing as everyone always makes it out to be,” says Barry, folding his arms over his chest for ten seconds before springing back to his feet as the Pens take a shot on goal.

*

Throughout the first period, Iris and Barry take turns feeding Ray bits of knowledge: pointing out players, explaining positions and calls from the refs, and generally acting like Ray’s personal, live action hockey wiki. They occasionally stand to get a better look at the action or to yell and clap which is when Ray will lean back to look at Cisco and Caitlin, who have taken over the couch and are wordlessly sorting peanut M&Ms between themselves as they watch the game. Cisco appears to only be taking the red, brown, and yellow ones while Caitlin takes the cool colors. They clap and cheer too, but no where to the degree of Barry and Iris, or even Detective West, who nearly spilled his beer when the Penguins scored their first goal.

But the night goes from _fun but a bit weird_ to _downright fucking unreal_ when someone on the Buccaneers team takes a swing at the Pens goalie and another player practically tackles the guy to the ice and Ray turns to say something about how violent this game is and Barry and Iris rise and scream in unison, ” _Fucking murder him_!”

Both of the players get carted off into what Ray had learned earlier were the penalty boxes. The Penguins player, #92, Ray sees when he checks the graphics board above the ice, is going in for something called roughing and the C-Bucs player goes in for goaltender interference, which makes sense, he thinks. Barry doesn’t like the call; Ray knows because he immediately starts yelling out of their box, like the ref will hear him.

“This is bullshit! That was way more than goaltender interference,” he shouts, “that was game misconduct!”

Barry gets up and starts pacing.

Ray blinks. “But, uh, the other guy. Roughing?” 

“Oh,” says Iris, coming back to herself. “It’s basically fighting but the gloves stay on. Yeah, no, he deserved that. See? He’s smiling and nodding.”

She points to the penalty box where the Pens player is indeed smiling and nodding to himself. Ray shrugs and pulls out his phone.

 _i am at a hockey game_ , he texts Felicity as the period ends. _i have no idea what is happening, people are yelling, there’s blood on the ice, + i’m drinking beer from a bucket, do people really enjoy this??_

 _You are the saddest, most pretentious man on Earth_ , she replies. _I mean that as a friend._

*

The Buccaneers score and tie the game at 1-1, and then score again, all in the first two minutes of the second period. The combined West-Allens practically have an aneurysm. Ray thinks about relocating to the couch, but Cisco and Caitlin also appear deeply unhappy at this turn of events as well so he stays in his seat, listening to Barry muttering beside him.

He tries to think of something comforting to say but can only come up with “sports, what can you do?” so settles with just patting Barry on the shoulder.

“They’ll turn it around,” he says, more to himself than in response to Ray. “It’s just the start of the period. It’s fine. We’re fine.”

They don’t.

The Penguins appear to struggle through the rest of the period, with a few more penalties called against them leading to perhaps the tensest moment in the box when the Pens have only three guys on the ice trying to defend their goalie and Ray thinks Barry and Iris are literally going to throw up and die. They manage to get through those two minutes without the C-Bucs scoring or any sort of spontaneous combustion happening in their box and the two players in the penalty box spring out and hit the ice.

But the period ends without another goal from either side, keeping it at 1-2 in favor of the Buccaneers, and both teams skate off ice and the zambonis come on. There is once again mid-period entertainment in the form of trivia games for C-Bucs fans and more music but Ray goes to their en suite bathroom instead for a break.

Barry is lying on his back on the floor when he gets out.

“That feels like it’s probably gross,” Ray says of the floor.

“Whatever,” says Barry. “I’m depressed.”

Ray shrugs. “Sports?” he offers.

Detective West starts laughing and Iris, Cisco, and Caitlin join in. Barry cracks a small smile and leans up on his elbows.

“That’s about right, actually,” he says. “It’s hard, wanting someone, or a group of people, to win in what is essentially just a game of skills and luck and nerve. But you do. And it’s crushing when they lose, and -- I don’t know, dude -- _nirvana_ when they win.”

The game starts back up again and the Penguins tear out onto the ice, much more like the team Ray watched in the first period -- he’s assuming; he still has no idea what the hell is going on, except that he’s pretty impressed these guys to do all these moves on what is essentially two steak knives stuck on some heavy boots.

They dominate the beginning of the period, pushing the C-Bucs constantly back to their goal to defend it. They score five minutes into the period and even Ray joins in on the cheering for this one as #87 is jumped on by his whole team in celebration. Five minutes after that, #87 scores again, bringing the Penguins back to the board leaders. Barry and Iris practically scream themselves hoarse.

“Now,” Detective West points out, much more grim than Ray would’ve thought he’d be during a sporting game, “they just need to keep it.”

The Pens fight to keep the puck down in the Buccaneers half of the ice. There’s a brief moment where the Pens go on the penalty kill before one of their own gets sent back in for hooking. It’s #92 again, who Barry had earlier laughingly accused of "being a real bitch tonight” and Iris and Detective West had rolled their eyes but agreed.

“Wow. Four trips to the sin bin in one game,” comments West, beer to his smiling lips. “You guys tell Len there was someone here for him to impress tonight?”

Ray blinks. “I’m sorry. Number 92 is your foster son?”

He blinks right back. “Uh. Yes?”

“Did we forget to tell you that?” asks Barry. He pulls guiltily at the neck of his jersey -- his _foster brother’s_ jersey.

“Yes. I mean,” says Ray. “I’m a genius so I probably should have figured it out from the way you guys were talking but I thought he was, like, maybe an assistant coach. Or. I don’t know, uh, I don’t know what I thought. Let's just move past me missing the glaringly obvious again. And you have a foster son that’s a famous NHL player?”

“Yeah,” says West, laughing. “That’s our boy.”

“Oh,” Ray says. “I’m just gonna sit with this for a minute.”

“Sure, man,” says Barry, kind and gentle for one split second before going back into a murderous hockey rage again, everyone except for Ray getting up on their feet and going along for the ride as well.

*

The C-Bucs put up a good fight for the remainder of the period and manage to tie the match with thirty second left in regulation play but the Penguins come back and manage to get it in the net one final time from what the West-Allens assure Ray was a beautifully orchestrated play between Len, Letang, and Sheary during overtime. As the Pens all line up to hug their goalie and then shake hands with the C-Bucs, Barry stands and claps his hands together.

“C’mon,” he says. “Let’s head down to the locker rooms and see if we can say hi to the whole team after their post-games!”

They quickly clean up their box and head out, Barry leading the way, a spring in his step that has nothing to do with his superspeed for once. Iris and Detective West follow behind him, and Ray brings up the back with Cisco and Caitlin.

“You’ve met Len?” he asks.

They nod. Caitlin says, “When Barry was in a coma, we saw him a lot. The Penguins didn’t make the playoffs that year, so he moved back to Central City for a few months, April to August or so, before he had to go back for training camp. He’d come by the most, at least once a day, since he had nothing else to do except be at the gym, so we got to know him pretty well.”

“He’s a sarcastic _dick_ ,” says Cisco. “His hockey nickname since he was sixteen has been _Captain Cold_ and his actual job is to hit people. But, like, he’s the _defense_. That’s our people. And he is one of Joe West’s kids, so. You know.”

“He is pretty mean,” agrees Caitlin. “It’s usually very funny. He _hated_ Doctor Wells.”

“Len hates almost all people,” calls West over his shoulder, to the laughter of his children.

Barry has been leading them this entire time through a series of corridors, flashing his badge and saying things like, “I’m Len Snart’s brother,” while smiling winningly. They run into a few people who clearly know the West-Allens, shaking their hands and waving them casually past, but on the whole Ray is sort of concerned with the lack of security until he thinks about the stories Felicity has told him about how easy it was to get through various securities in Starling City so he keeps his mouth shut.

They take one final corner and spill out to a wide hall filled with people with press passes and a few huge, damp guys Ray realizes are the Penguins hockey players and that they must be just outside the visitors locker room. He wonders how they are going to get to Len which is, of course, when a young blond guy in a Pens ball-cap spots Barry and Iris. He grins and waves, breaking off from the person he was talking to to head over.

He hugs Barry very tightly as he says in a thick, unusual accent, “Care Bear! Good to see you on your feet!” 

“Hey, thanks, man,” says Barry when he’s released. “It’s good to be on them!”

The guy smiles wider and turns to Iris. He kisses her hand. “My beautiful Other Flower, I’ve missed you even more!”

“Hiya,” she says. “Great game tonight!”

“Thank you, thank you,” he says. “But as much as I want it to be, you’re not here for me!”

“Sorry, Olli,” says Detective West. “Just looking for my eldest.”

“Cold’s just finishing up his post-games,” Olli says. “I’ll go grab him for you. And Care Bear, you come with me now too.”

He grabs Barry by the wrist and drags him towards the locker room, where they immediately lose sight of him as a guy in a Penguins jersey snags him in for a hug and then another and another. Iris and West watch fondly as Barry is quickly engulfed by hockey players.

Ray tries to sink back against the wall with Caitlin and Cisco, trying to get out of the crush of reporters and players. They are watching, wide-eyed, at their surroundings and Ray is glad it appears he’s not the only one experiencing this particular brand of strange for the first time.

“Joe!” someone calls from the direction Olli disappeared, a new, deeper voice. “I thought you were trapped at the station tonight.”

“Kid,” says Detective West, “like I’d miss your first game in Central in a year.”

West and Iris join them at the wall now, West with his arm around the shoulders of a very handsome, _very_ shirtless man. #92, Ray presumes, a little at a loss as he stares. West’s eldest, as he called him, is striking, with brilliant eyes and close cropped dark hair that looks like it might be going just a bit grey, tan skin, a sly twist to his lips.

 _Oh no_ , thinks Ray.

Len is smiling faintly as West asks, “What are those now, broken ribs?”

“Just bruised,” he says, patting at the purple and black and yellow streaks of color across a rather impressive portion of his left side. “ _Days_ old, don’t worry about it. Now, who are the plus-ones you brought tonight?” 

“Hey, man,” says Cisco, reaching out to shake Len’s hand. “Thanks for getting us in. Great game.”

“Thank you, Cisco,” he says. He nods at Caitlin, who waves her fingers back, smiling. “And Doctor Snow. It’s nice to see you both out of the lab.”

“Well, Ray here had never seen a hockey game live before,” says Barry, finally emerging out of the crowd of hockey players that had descended on him to clap him on the back and hug him; with all the evidence available to him, Ray assumed it was the first time Barry had seen Len’s teammates since he’d been in a coma.

“And we couldn’t let that stand now, could we?” Iris smiles, moving to her other foster brother’s side.

“Of course not,” says Len, very seriously. He eyes Ray up and down and, yep, Ray’s mouth is dry now. He shakes Ray’s hand, grip firm and strong, because _of course it is, Ray, why wouldn’t it be?_ his mind asks, and his smile is slow, all teeth, as he says, “Leonard Snart, Pittsburgh Penguins, defense. How’d you like your first hockey game, Ray, was it?”

“Yeah, that’s, uh, me. And it was great! It was an experience. Ha ha.” Ray shuts his eyes hard and quickly, blinking rapidly. Someone stop him. He tacks on, helpless, “You’re a, uh, a great skater.”

“Well, I _should_ be,” Len says.

“Hey!” says West, smirking. “Be nice to Doctor Palmer. He’s probably just shell-shocked because your fan-club was shouting statistics at him the whole night, and Barry tried to explain offsides.”

Len rolls his eyes at Barry but somehow manages to never look away from Ray, who just sort of prays for death. He’s smoother than this, he knows he is!

“Now,” Len is saying, “that’s downright _mean_ to throw at someone on day one.”

“Shut up,” Barry says, getting into Len’s space on his left as Iris does the same on right. “You did the exact same to me with icing. Anyway, what’s this?”

He jabs a finger into Len’s bruising. Len shifts and says, “None of your business.”

“This has always been our business,” says Iris, face solemn, and does the same.

West starts laughing, watching Iris and Barry torment his other foster son, the famous hockey player, who is slapping their hands away from poking into the mottled spots of his war-wounds like over-inquisitive, asshole kids, saying, “Beat it, _dweebs_ , let me go put a shirt on, look _presentable_ for _mixed_ company.”

He turns back into the locker room, and Ray stares at the straight line of his surprisingly narrow shoulders and the dip of his lower back and --

 _You could bounce a quarter off that ass_ , he thinks.

“What was that?” asks Caitlin, startled, glancing at Ray. 

“What? Nothing,” he says. “I think I’m having that stroke. Or an out of body experience. Don’t worry about it.”

She narrows her eyes, unconvinced, and he laughs nervously until she looks away from him.

Len emerges a minute later, a black t-shirt pulled on now and donning a baseball cap, that plain shirt riding up just a bit to expose a bit of tan skin once again. Ray knows he just saw the man shirtless but he still feels blood rush to his face like he’s a Victorian maiden. Len slings an arm around Cisco’s shoulders, offers an elbow to Caitlin, and says, “I could _murder_ for a burger right now. Anyone else hungry?”

“Oh, Ray took us to this great place last night,” says Caitlin as they start walking down the tunnel together.

“How bougie was it?” asks Iris seriously, following.

“Not too bougie,” says Caitlin.

“Please, we’ve got standards,” says Cisco. “You know I can’t go higher than a B rating. Gives me hives.”

“Health codes give you hives?” asks Caitlin, arch and with the air of someone who has had this argument many times before and is willing to have it again.

“Wouldn’t have taken you as one of the bourgeoisie, Raymond,” Len says over his shoulder, wry, “even though this _is_ your first foray into the most _working class_ of sports, what with all the fist fights.”

Barry laughs, clapping Ray on the shoulder, says, “Ray’s just a nerd like the rest of us,” and throws himself at his foster sibling’s back. He’s caught easily, Len disengaging from Cisco and Caitlin and  simply shifting Barry’s weight up and continues down the hall with him on his back, barely putting a pause in his chat with the scientists about something or other. Iris drops back to Ray to hook her arm in his and Joe follows behind them, hands in his pockets, smiling fondly.

“Len’s great,” Iris says. “And I promise that we won’t talk about only hockey all night long, so you’ll actually be able to get to know him and totally fall in love with him.”

 _Yeah_ , thinks Ray, staring at the side of Len’s face as he rolls his eyes at Barry, his heart rabbiting in his chest. _Yeah, that ship has sailed._

**Author's Note:**

> \- 5k of unbeta’d + quickly written nonsense of some equally nonsense earth where the snart siblings somehow end up raised by joe west + leonard becomes a famous defenseman for the penguins + barry + iris grew up very, very aggressively into hockey; i tried to fit this into an actual canon but then decided who cares, we’re wherever we wanna be, we’re on earth-72 or whatever now + the points are all made up so the questions don’t matter (but we’re probably early season two for barry + somewhere pre-getting-exploded for ray if we gotta call it), with apologies to the pens  
> \- anyway, long story short, don’t binge watch superhero shows + research hockey at the same time, kids  
> \- title + epigraph from slap shot, naturally  
> \- (not pictured: mick rory, canadian juvenile delinquent turned enforcer for the habs; lisa snart, olympic gold medalist in singles figure-skating)


End file.
